


An Artist's Muse

by Akalon



Category: Multi-Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 12:12:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16872681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akalon/pseuds/Akalon





	An Artist's Muse

You’d often make your way to the market place once the sun was well into the sky. Slipping off into the crowd a bright splotch of pastel in the lively marketplace. Your kind was commonplace in this part of the world but what was uncommon was your place in it. The tavern.

Fairies were gardeners, florist, or landscapers in general. A select few were even escorts. At least the ‘nice’ ones were. The acceptable ones. Your magic laid in more…useless talents. Water breathing, animal mimicry, occasionally animal magnetism but only to frogs? You weren’t even able to conjure anything bigger than a palm sized pebble.

But you were at home in the human-ran tavern. Pouring your house-special fairy wine for those wanting a magical punch. Ale and other human spirits for those who couldn’t afford it. The price was never the same person to person.

As you settled into your work the crowd slowly began to trickle in. The afternoon passing quickly. The goblins came in. Ordering a bottle of wine to share and giving you a large jar of brightly colored hard candies. You’s hid a few in a small pouch in your bodice, snacking on them occasionally.

“Don’t look now but she’s back.” Your boss, Thamos, grunted. Scratching his beard and grimacing at the new arival.

In walked the green wall of an orcish woman. She was massive in size, tall and muscular enough to give most human men a run for their money. Thick brown hair cascaded from her head in braids, adorned with beads, shells, bones, and more often than not a bit dead-locked.

Orika was her name but everyone here called her Ori for short. She was a loud one, lively and charismatic despite her utterly terrifying appearance. Here on behalf of her people and the other clans. But if you asked anyone around here she was here to party and have a good time.

Striding toward the counter she leans forward, winking at your boss much to his absolute disgust. He’d made the mistake thrice of sleeping with her. Ended up with a purple splotched neck and a limp that lasted the better part of a week each time. A sigh of relief leaving him as she turned to you. “Whats the price today Lily?”

She was the only one who actually used your name. You’d let her guess one day while she was slovenly drunk and somehow, someway, that’s the only thing she remembered from that night. Your first name.

Turning around fully you set the mug on the counter only to have your boss snatch it up and use it as an excuse to get away from her and her bruising libido. You reach below for a bottle of your infamous fairy wine. The corner of her scowl twitches upward as she reaches for it but you quickly smack the scarred hand.

A low growl rumbles from her chest and you lift a pink brow, pulling the bottle away from her.

“You damn fae and your manners. My sincerest apologies Lily.” She drew the word out, making a show of it by bowing her head slightly.

Smiling you laugh. Reaching forward you touch a beautifully carved wooden bead in her hair.

“No.” Ori grunted, glaring down at you.

Scoffing you bring the bottle to your chest and she heaves a sigh.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I can’t. The beads mean things to my kind.” Her raspy voice explained and she shifted her weight to one foot. Your confused expression spoke loudly enough. “I got that for slaying an ogre that was wrecking havoc in a village back in my home lands. Have you killed an ogre and didn’t tell me?”

Shaking your head you laugh.

“Didn’t think so. That bead is still mine. Come on pick something else. You know i’m good for anything else. I could get you some more of those frilly cakes you like? From that shop that won’t let you pay in pebbles? Orrr… More lotion from those lizard folk? I got coin too if you want that.” It was Ori’s turn to laugh at the face you pulled at the mention of coin.

Pinching your nose you wave your hand in front of your face and cough.

“Yeah yeah money ‘stinks’.” Rolling her eyes she slams her hands on the bar-top and you jump, wings snapping up in case of emergency flight. “PICK A PRICE LILY!”

Wincing you look her over and set the bottle down an idea popping into your head. Holding a finger up you disappear into the back and rummage through your bag before finding your comb. Coming back you find she’s already snatched the bottle and plopped herself down at her table. Uncorked the wine and has it to her lips, taking a large gulp of it.

Frowning you smack her arm and she brings the bottle back down. The shimmering amber liquid hanging on her lower lip before a pink tongue darted out and quickly lapped it up.

“Taste test?” The orc tried.

The scowl on your face made them burst into deep hearty laughter.

“Alright alright.” She sat the bottle back down as the door flew open and a few more orcs shoved their way into the crowded tavern. They pushed around you, shoving patrons in order to give you a wide birth. If you were honest? You think they were scared of you.

Your wings fluttered, and you held up the delicate looking comb.

Ori just looked at you. The orcs taking up their seats around her as the tavern keep came by to take their orders. They could afford the fairy wine.

Rolling your eyes you run it through your hair.

“I know what it is.” Ori snapped.

Your brows raise. Given the tangles and matted hair she often ran around with you seriously doubted it.

“You want me to get you one?” She wondered, lip curling up as her brows furrowed in confusion.

Shaking your head you walk around the table and grab a tall stool near the fireplace. Dragging it over you plop yourself down. Her rich black eyes are watching you intensely as you reach for her mane of hair. The other orcs laughing as their ale and whiskey arrives.

Sectioning off a portion of her hair you start the task at the ends. Gently combing out the tangles and mess. A hum bubbles from Ori’s throat but soon enough you’re ignored and the bottle’s back to her lips as she jokes and talks with her friends.

Taking care around the beads it takes you nearly an hour to get through Ori’s thick hair but by the end of it one of the more weathered beads is barely hanging on. Sliding it off the braid you gently set it on the table as you re-braid the hair, holding the handle of the comb in your teeth. Unaware of the silence that had suddenly fallen over the table of orcs as you finish up by re-braiding this section of hair. Holding the new braid with one hand you dive into your bodice with the other. Plucking a pink piece of candy from the small pouch you clench your fist around it. Feeling the magic pour into it as you changed it.

Opening your hand you smiled at the opalescent sheen of the long cylindrical pink bead. It was the same faded pink color of your hair but when the light caught it just right it sparkled and shimmered with fragmented shards of broken rainbows. Sliding it onto the braid and then plucking the old bead from the table and sliding that one on below it. As you’re tying it off Ori’s head begins to turn towards you slowly.

Scoffing in frustration you forcefully turn her head back around, finishing up before standing up. However just as you’re about to leave a calloused green hand shoots out, grabbing your forearm.

“Lily?” There’s…something weird in her voice. Confusion, anger, but something you can’t quite place.

Turning you sit back down, pulling the comb from your lips.

“D-did you mean to do that?” For the first time in the years you’d known her she stutters. Actually stutters.

Blinking you scan her face looking for a clue as to what she means. The wine is getting to her, she’s flushed in the cheeks but that’s about it. Her heavy brow and frowning grimace is there like it always is. So you raise a brow, canting your head to the side.

“Did you mean to put that bead in my hair?” Again, that unplaceable tone is in her voice.

Shrugging you smile and nod. Peeling her hand off your arm you hop up. Dragging the stool back and getting back to work.

Thamos is griping to himself, horrible things spilling from those hairy human lips. Glancing to your ‘boss’ you narrow your eyes. What a hateful man.

“Wut?” Thamos snaps.

Croaking like a frog you earn a grunt and a muttered curse before he slides three ales your way. 

“Orcs.” Is all he says.

Rolling your eyes you pick them up and head back on over to drop them off.

Like magic the table falls silent as you approach. All of their eyes on you.

Glancing around you wonder what’s gotten into them but without any more orders you wonder away.

The rest of the night goes as normal. The drunks slowly file out. Either with strangers or being forced out by Thamos.

Orika is the only one left. Sitting in her chair, watching you while you clean up.

It starts to get creepy and you finally storm over. Wings up, twitching as your face flushes with angry blush. Throwing the dirty rag at her you point to the door.

“Why?” She asks, raising a brow and downing the last gulp of her ale.

You motion around you to all the empty chairs and tables. Bringing your palms together and tucking your hands under your long ears and snoring loudly. Pointing to the door again you glare her down.

The orc shoves the table away from her, wooden legs screeching as she stands. Walking over to you she towers over you, swaying slightly. Her expression is unreadable but she’s clearly drunk. Slowly, deliberately, she grabs your hand. “You’re so beautiful. Pink, soft, and girly. I’m a dirty, rough, and ugly drunk.” She says softly. The rasp really surfacing in the hushed whisper.

Your eyes grow wide and you shake your head furiously. Pink hair swinging around as you frown and bonk her on the head with your fist.

A slow smile grows on her face and she seizes the back of your head with her hand as she leaned down and touching her forehead to yours. Headbutting you hard enough to make you wince.

You’re not quite sure why but your heart flutters despite the slight pain and the anger leaves you in a rush. Replaced with a flood of embarrassment as your heart races. You’d seen the gesture before but being in it…it felt.. intimate.

When she pulled away you stared up at her starry-eyed and bewildered. What had sparked this? Raising a hand to your head you the red mark gently.

Orika never crossed pass the playful banter before let alone flirt with you or any of your kind. Now she was ‘headbutting’ you like you were an orc?

Turning she left, waving over her shoulder. “See you tomorrow my sweet little fairy fiance. I’d have you right now but i’m to enjoy…to drunk it.” Stumbling she laughed and slammed into the door frame. “Ey watch it!” She growled to the wood. “ You know what I meant right? Of course you do.. Tomorrow!” Spinning around she nearly falls backwards out the door as she points to you, the brightest smile you’d ever seen on her face. “The courtship will officially begin!” And with that she stumbles backwards and away. The orcs outside swarming around her and playfully punching her in the arm.

Worried you watched her leave, quickly locking the door behind her. That was weird even for her. Usually you’d find her hidden somewhere making out with someone or in various states of fucking them.

Wait.

Did she say ‘fiance’? Courtship? COURTSHIP?!

Your eyes fly wide again and you practically fly to the back to Thamos. Shaking his shoulder violently as he carried an armful of clean mugs back up to the front.

“AHH!” He yelled. “Damn it Lil you almost made me drop my mugs! What is it?”

You point to her chair, then the door. A stream of animal noises leaving your lips. Curse your stupid curse!

“Wha..?” Thamos stares at you like you’re crazy as you’re now pointing to your ring finger and shoving your hand in his face. “I don’t know what you’re saying Lil.”

Huffing you turn back to the door as you clench your hand over your racing heart. You could practically feel it beating against your ribs for freedom. Your wings were a blur behind you, sending sparkling dust flying.  
Somehow, someway, you’d become engaged to Orika. The Orc warchief of the Iron hide clan.   
You’d been an artist since before you could remember. The thing was? You were an orc. A big guy with a bigger heart and it killed you people saw you and shunned you from the art scene. So instead you took your skill to the internet.

There no one knew who the artist behind their favorite dirty artist was. Just that he was some dude who lived in some small town where nothin’ exciting ever happened. A place were orcs were slammed with racism and reminded constantly they were more beast than person.

So to say you were a shut-in. A hermit. Was an understatement. You kept to yourself. Worked a low-wage restaurant where you bused tables and cleaned dishes. Easy work and it left you with enough free time to sell your art and comics on the side. Art of love and sex. Fluffy romance you’d resigned yourself to never having. Art of your dreams, the relationships you’d never had but the characters you made had pieces of you in them and it was your outlet. Your escape.

Grabbing your groceries from the beat-up rusty red pick up you slid the bags up your arm and started carrying them up. All the way to the top floor of your apartment. Grunting you made your way up the stairs.

“Do you need help with that?” A feminine voice called out.

Turning you look back toward a human female. Like a wraith from the shadows she appeared behind you.

“Here. Let me help.” She raced up to you, cutting you off to offer her hand and her help.

Staring at her you melted. Clad in all black with chains and spikes and lace with the sweetest smile on her beet red lips. Her hair shaved short on the sides but left long on the top and currently plaited over her left shoulder.

“Uhmmm…” She laughed and there was a flash of cute crooked teeth.

Shaking your head you snap yourself out of it. “Right uh.. Thanks…here.” You hand her the bag of apples and she scoffs. Sliding a few bags from your arm she motions for you to lead the way. “Go on. Lead the way.”

“T-thanks.” You mutter, continuing your accent to your apartment. Reaching the top floor you fumble for the keys, dropping them.

“I got it.” She chimes, bending to pluck them from the ground. Her skin tight black jeans doing wonders for her womanly curves. Oh man.. she had a great ass.

No!

What were you thinking?!

“Th-thanks.” you mutter as she pushes the door open.

“Don’t mention it. Didn’t know I had an orc neighbor. I live right across the hallway. Always kind of wondered who lived here. You’re as quiet as a doormouse.” She drops the groceries off right inside the doorway.

“You can come in if you like.” You say softly. “Kitchen’s to the right.”

She squeezes around you, brushing up against you on her way. Blinking you close the door behind her and follow her slow steps toward the kitchen.

“It’s like… an art gallery. Did you make all these?” Her voice is filled with wonder and you nod before you realize she can’t see you behind her.

“Oh uh.. Nah.. A uhm…”Quick you needed a lie.” A human friend made them for me. He sells art online.”

“Really? That’s so cool. The style looks so familiar…”

Your heart drops. “W-what?” You sputter, quickly catching yourself as she glances back to you. “I mean he lives locally.. so maybe you’ve seen his stuff?” Nice save.

Setting down the bags she walks toward the piece in the living room and you suddenly regret inviting her in. What if she recognized your style? What if she was a fan? Quickly you shed the bags and gently guide her shoulder back around. “I’ll let him know you like his art. I’m sure it’ll uh.. really get his heart pumping.” ‘out of terror’ you add in your head.

“Hey woah. Hey!” She cries as you push her out the door

“Thank you so much again. I appreciate it!” You slam the door shut and spin around, resting your back against it. That was a close one.

If you were outed as an orc.. Shit.. all your followers would leave.

Sighing you push yourself back up and put away the groceries.

—

Later that night you’re streaming when a comment catches your eye.

“Ever draw goth girls?”

You hadn’t. You’d always thought your type was the cute normal girls. The girls who loved sunshine and the beach. Sundresses, long hair and smelled like strawberries.

Pecking at the small keys you reply.

“That’s a good idea. I’ll draw that next! Thanks.”

You had the perfect girl in mind. Finishing up your drawing you clear the canvas and start over. Time flies by as you’re painting her. Getting more and more detail in with each and every digital stroke until there’s a light knock on your door.

Writing a quick BRB on the canvas you hop up and head to the door. Oh man you hoped it was the girl scouts selling cookies again. Maybe this time they wouldn’t scream. Stay long enough for you to buy some thin mints.

Opening the door you open your mouth to say hello but your eyes settle on the goth human across the hall. The woman from before. She’s holding a tablet to her chest, screen facing you with a big smile on her face. It was your stream.

Quickly you shut the door. Oh no. Nononononono. Wait.. That closing the door wouldn’t help. Slowly you open the door again and she’s still standing there. Like a little ray of darkness smiling up at you. Death. Come for your soul. This was the end?

“Sorry about that.”

“I knew it was you.” She says, rolling onto the ball of her foot and leans forward. You can’t help but take a step back, scared out of your wits. “That’s the same art isn’t it? You’re the one who draws the porn and stuff online right?”

Mortified your eyes grow wide. “Listen. I-”

“I won’t tell anyone. I mean I get it why you don’t tell anyone. Being uhm…”

“Orc.” You supply, defeated.

“Right.” She blushes but pecks at her tablet. “You’d get a lot of crap for it I bet but that’s not why I came over here.”

“i-it’s not?” You stutter. Why was she here then?

“Is this me?” She asks,showing you a screenshot of the painting you’d been working on before writing the brb.

Wilting you sigh. God you looked like a creep now. Even if the painting in question was just a bust up portrait.

“Ahh.. uh well. It’s inspir-” You begin.

“It’s amazing!” She cheers. Her head canting ever so slightly to the side as her eyes wondered over the digital painting.

She was beautiful.

“Wha-?” Realizing she’d sat down on the desk you swallow. “I uh..It’s not done so…”

“Really? It looks so good already.” She glances to you and your heart skips a beat. “You did miss a few things though.” Her eye scan your face and those red lips pull into a smile again. “Wellllll… Care for a model then? I’d love to watch you paint and it’s better to work from real life right?”

Your brain is screaming ‘no’ in epic slow-mo like in starwars but your head nods before you have the chance to stop it.

She squeezes by you, practically prancing by. “You got my nipple color wrong by the way.” Her voice carries but it’s a million miles away.

“The…n-nipples?” You whisper, holding the door frozen in place as she tosses the tablet onto the couch and starts to peel away layers of her black clothing.

“Paint me like one of your french girls~“

Should I continue? This has sat in my drafts for months.

Money talks <3


End file.
